


Detroit: Outlast

by Cardboardghost



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse of the Mentally Ill, Aftermath of Torture, Blood, Cults, Death, Good luck y'all, Gore, Hank is Connor's dad, Heavy Canon Divergence, Like this probably wont make sense after a while lmao, M/M, Mental Instability, Mental Institutions, Minor Character Death, Nines is Eddie but he doesnt die, Not accurate to the layout of the asylum probably, Outlast Au!, SO, Temporary Character Death, This gets dark very quick lemme tell ya, Torture, Violence, its outlast what do you expect, logic? Who’s she, medical inaccuracy, so much blood, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2020-04-08 11:41:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19106371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cardboardghost/pseuds/Cardboardghost
Summary: Connor Upshur is a down on his luck reporter, who spends his nights getting drunk and passing out at home. A mysterious email calls him to Mount Massive Asylum, owned by the Cyberlife corporation, which has devolved into chaos. Armed with nothing but a camera and his wits, Connor must brave the asylum's horrors and find a way to save the people Cyberlife stole from him.Gavin Park is a beat cop looking for a more well paying job. So when an offer to work private security at the Cyberlife corporation all but falls into his lap, how could he refuse? Gavin quickly realizes things are not what they seem, and in an attempt to expose Cyberlife, he ends up further in their clutches. When a riot breaks out that sends the facility spiraling, he and Connor must work together to claw their way out of the asylum's depths, and the familiar faces that wait inside those walls.





	1. Beginning

“Ok, that’s it, I’m cutting you off.” The bartender pulled away the half-empty whiskey glass with firm finality. A man lay face down on the bar in front of him, not coherent enough to think about his alcohol consumption. He raised his head and blinked. On the corner of his mouth were the remnants of cheese fries with ketchup, and under his eyes was a ring of dark purple. The bartender winced. “You should go home man, it’s almost two in the morning.”

“Wuh-? It is?” The man looked around, noticing for the first time that almost everybody had left the bar. “Huh, guess so. Thanks, Jimmy. Uh- put that last drink on my tab, yea? You’re the best,” He said, getting off his chair as he spoke. Jimmy sighed and shook his head.

“Yea sure, like always. Try to get some sleep Connor, that hangover’s gonna be killer.” Jimmy said. He began to wipe down the counter, removing the last spills of whiskey and vodka.

“Maybe I actually will, guess you’ll find out later!” Connor called over his shoulder, stumbling out the door. No wonder, Jimmy thought, the kid had drunk half his weight in alcohol. “I mean it!” Jimmy yelled after him, but he was already gone. The bartender let out a long sigh and returned to cleaning. Every night he came, got blackout drunk, and wouldn't leave until Jimmy kicked him out. After what had happened to the kid- losing his whole family like that- he understood. Still, it worried him to see Connor wrecking himself like that.

 

Connor tugged his hoodie shut as he walked. The night air was chilly, and soft winds didn’t help. Despite the darkness, he had little trouble finding his way home. He’d gone to and from Jimmy’s bar more times than he could count; the way was more than familiar to him now. Concrete rasped an old song under his shoes, and Connor tried to hum along. The tune was a little off, though.  After walking for five blocks, he finally arrived at his house. Not his house, not really, only according to the law. It was modest, a white wood and brick house with a red-tiled roof. The porch steps were overshadowed by an outcrop that all lead to a dark wooden door. He unlocked it with unsteady hands and went inside.

On his right, he saw the kitchen table, with his laptop on it. The screen was alight, washing the room in a dim blue glow as it informed him of a new email. Connor’s stomach chose that moment to make an appearance and send him running to the bathroom. He clung to the toilet bowl, expelling the cheese fries he'd eaten before. He groaned and wiped his mouth to clean any residue. After brushing his teeth to rid himself of the taste, Connor looked over at the computer again. Well, it couldn’t be that interesting anyway. Nobody important messaged him anymore, not since he’d stopped reporting. It could wait. Satisfied with his decision, Connor shuffled over to the couch and collapsed onto it. At least he managed to kick off his shoes before he passed out completely.

The next morning, Connor had almost completely forgotten about the message. His head was pounding something fierce and took all his attention. Jimmy was right about the hangover, Connor wanted to die. He walked into the kitchen and chugged three glasses of water before anything else. It didn’t help, but at least his throat wasn’t dry anymore. He cast a glance at the stove before he decided to open the fridge and reheat some leftovers. Every morning he did the same dance with himself. He'd look at the stove as if he was considering cooking something. The burners already had a fine layer of dust, he knew he’d never cook. But still, he pretended that maybe today he’d make some eggs. He shook his head and turned his back to it. There was still takeout in the fridge anyway. Conan used to cook for them all, before... Connor rolled his shoulders and pushed those thoughts away. No need to dwell on things like that before he'd even had breakfast.

It was only when Connor sat down with a bowl of Lo Mein that he remembered the email at all. He tapped on the trackpad to wake it up and saw the little notification in the corner. “Huh…” He clicked on it to open up his emails. The message was short, from an email that was most definitely company related. The more he read, the wider his eyes got.

 

“From: 10260110756@mutemail.com

To: connorupshur@gmail.com

Subject: TIP/ Illegal Activity at Cyberlife Psychiatric Systems

 

You don’t know me. Have to make this quick. They might be monitoring.

 

I’m a security guard at CYBERLIFE Psychiatric Systems’ facilities in Mount Massive. All sorts of NDA’s I’m breaking right now but seriously, fuck those guys.

Terrible things happening there. Don’t understand it. Don’t believe half the things I saw. Doctors talking about dream therapy going too deep, finding something that had been waiting for them in the mountain. People are being hurt and Cyberlife is making money.

 

It needs to be exposed.“

 

Connor froze with the fork halfway to his mouth. An employee of Cyberlife? There was no way, but the letter was convincing. Attached was an IMG file of a large figure with dark hair, tied up to a chair with belts. The photo was blurry as if the photographer had been trying to sneak the shot. Which, when Connor considered it, he probably had. His leftovers sat forgotten on the table as he scanned the email over and over again. The clock on his laptop showed 11:42 AM, but the message was sent a few hours earlier, while he was out drinking. He looked at the photo once more, closer this time. The figure had stature and hair that reminded him of Conan. That thought alone was enough to make him feel sick.

The rest of the day Connor argued with himself. There was a very good chance this was all fake, some kind of sick hoax. Though he was inclined to believe it’s validity. Maybe he was desperate for a lead, but this did seem convincing. He opened the email again and clicked “print”. The machine whirred to life and wheezed as it struggled to spit out the small message. Impatient, he tore out the bottom half of the page once he could see all the words.

This was a bad idea. But Connor was known for his terrible decisions. He took a shower, grabbed his camera, and stuffed the printed email into his pocket. The picture was still fresh in his mind, and it spurred him to push out of his house and climb into the car. According to his GPS, Mount Massive was a few hours away by car. That was doable, he decided. Connor stopped by a small shop to get himself a boba tea to calm his nerves, and he was off.

Mount Massive loomed on the horizon, so close Connor could almost taste it. He clenched his hands tighter around the steering wheel. He had to do this, for Hank and Conan. It was the least they deserved after he’d been so useless to them. No one stopped him as he pulled up into the driveway, which was weird enough on its own. The place looked run down, with boards on the windows. Some with no glass that left an empty frame. Not exactly what he was expecting from a facility owned by the Cyberlife corporation. But then again, it could be a cover. He stepped out of the car and took another look around. No one to be seen. Most cars were gone, even the security office was empty. The only cars he could see still parked were military vehicles. What was going on here?

It didn’t get better from there. The main gate wouldn’t open, so Connor slipped in through the small side gate. The complete lack of people unnerved him. He walked to the front door with caution. It was as good a place to start as any, right? He jiggled the door handle, but it was most definitely locked. Ok, time to find another way in. He put the camera strap around his neck and headed to the left of the entrance. To his relief, there was a gate with a hole ripped into the bottom. He crouched low. The hole was small, but Connor managed to squeeze himself through. Beyond that was a set of stairs leading to a metal door, and further ahead was what looked to be the beginnings of construction. The scaffolding was shaky, only wooden boards on poles, but it all lead to an open (or broken) window.

Unfortunately, the door was locked. Again Connor looked up to the scaffolding. Well, it seemed stable enough. He clambered up the wooden planks with the grace one could expect of someone as hungover as him. The window was slightly above his head still, and the scaffolding didn’t go any higher. Careful so as not to crush his camera, Connor hauled himself into the darkness of the asylum.

  
  


Desperation could make people do some dumb things, Gavin of all people knew that. But being a beat cop wasn’t making the money he needed to pay bills, and this offer seemed too good to pass up. Tina had advised him against it. “Private security is completely different from cop work. Plus, have you seen all the warnings in the fine print? There’s something wrong about this.” She had said, concern was written clearly on her face. Her voice was quiet, so as not to let the other patrons in the cafe know what they were talking about. Gavin found her caution a little exhausting.

“C’ mon Tina, the pay is great and it doesn’t seem like a hard gig. I’ll try it out for a few months and see how I like it,” He said, waving a hand to dispel her worry. “Worst comes to worst, the job sucks and I just quit. But come on, it’s not every day you get accepted to something like this,” He pulled up the email from Cyberlife and presented it with a grin. “They're very particular, you know,”

Tina sighed in defeat. “Fine. Look, just be careful okay? I don’t want to hear you died while on the job.”

“Oh come on Tina, how dangerous can it be?” Gavin shut his laptop and stood from his seat. “I’ll see you around, wish me luck!” Without waiting for an answer he marched out the door, coffee in hand. Tina watched with clenched fists. That idiot was going to get himself killed. 

“Damn you, Gavin Park…”

 

His work started soon after that. It wasn’t bad at all, the supervisors were decent and he didn’t have to do too much. Most of his job was just standing in the main hall or escorting high ranking employees around the facility. The only truly weird thing was that he had to wear a bulletproof vest at all times. His outfit was more akin to something on a SWAT team rather than private security, and he had a fully loaded gun on his hip. Nobody ever told him why. For the money he was getting though, Gavin could hardly complain. Sure, he'd overheard some kind of weird stuff, but nothing crazy, just strange. Talk about an "Engine" or whatever. Way above his paygrade. It was only about two weeks into his job that something strange happened.

“Park, I need you to escort this programmer down to testing room three, can you do that for me?” His supervisor said, leveling him with a hard gaze. Gavin hadn’t even clocked in for ten minutes, and already something was off. He nodded, confused.

“Yes sir,” Gavin said. The programmer stood next to his supervisor, trembling. Gavin wasn’t that tall himself, but this guy was tiny. He clutched a clipboard to his chest, and his eyes constantly darted around as if the walls would come alive and attack him. What was a guy like this doing on the lower floors? Gavin had only been there once, briefly. At least he still remembered where the room was. “Follow me,” He walked away with the nervous man close behind.

While he had been down in the lower parts of the facility, but this was the first time Gavin was going inside one of the rooms for anything other than the basic orientation tour. He had to allow the small man to step in front of him and open the door with a keycard. A group of agitated scientists and guards stood inside. Behind them, Gavin could see a bunch of computers and screens overlooking a big observation chamber. At least, he thought it was an observation chamber. Only a wall of glass separated them all from whatever the hell was going on down below.

The programmer adjusted his glasses nervously and settled down in the seat in front of the computer.  “So can you fix it?” One of the doctors asked, leaning over to peer at the screen. Gavin observed the whole thing with a mild state of confusion.

“I can, it’ll just take a second.” The programmer went to work on the coding. Gavin’s attention was pulled back up by the sounds of struggles and screaming. He stared in horror as a group of security guys dragged in another man. He was a hulking beast, towering over them and thrashing like his life depended on it. His eyes were wild and frantic. He managed to break free of their grip and rushed up to the window. The man slammed his hands against the glass and locked eyes with Gavin. Broken cuffs dangled from his wrists.

“Help me! You can stop it- I know you can! Help me!” He begged, staring at Gavin. It was deeply unnerving, to say the least. The guards caught up and dragged the man away, kicking and screaming. “Let me go you jack-booted fucks!” His voice sounded raw from screaming. They strapped him down to a chair with various tubes shoved into his mouth and throat. It was horrible. Without a second thought, Gavin carefully pulled his cell halfway out of his pocket and snapped a shot. The programmer had just about finished, and they left once more. For someone so nervous, the tiny man was very unbothered by all of that. Gavin let out a shaky breath.

 

The computer screen cast a dim glow onto Gavin’s face as he typed. Each word filled him with more and more frantic energy. He attached the image and pressed send, still feeling his heart like a jackhammer in his chest. “Gavin Park…” A low voice cooed from behind him. Gavin whirled around to see the dark figure of someone he never expected to see, Amanda Blaire. Next to her stood a tall and imposing guard, and Gavin regretted removing his uniform earlier. “How foolish. Don’t you know the last thing a fly should do in a spider’s web is wiggle?” Gavin stepped away from the guard only to get clocked with a gun. His nose throbbed, and he felt a small trickle of blood slide down the bridge. She was smiling as the burly guard pressed a gun to Gavin’s head and shoved him onto his knees. He groaned in pain.

“F-fuck you…” He spat, unable to move. Amanda clicked her tongue with displeasure.

“Such behavior is simply insane, Gavin. Perhaps we should have you committed as a patient.” She paused, considering it. The guard yanked on his hair and forced Gavin to look up. “Sedate him.” A sharp pain echoed through his head, and everything went black.

 

When Gavin came to, he was not in the same place he had been before. The walls around him were padded, dirty white. Beneath him was a cot that didn’t exactly qualify as comfortable. He sat up. “What-?” The clothes he’d been wearing before were gone, replaced with a patient uniform and a number, ‘4930’. Brown jumpsuit over a green undershirt, they were not getting any style points here. Gavin had just begun to register his surroundings when the door opened. A man stood behind it, clearly a doctor judging by the white coat.

“Gavin, you’re required for testing.” The doctor had a terrifying smile, full of perfectly straight and white teeth.

“Testing?” He asked. His question wasn’t answered. Instead, he was forced onto a chair and tied down with thick brown belts. It reminded him vividly of the man he’d seen just a few hours earlier. Gavin’s nerves began to fray. The doctor wheeled him into another room, one with a blank wall- or was it a screen? His vision was still fuzzy. He tried to shut his eyes, but a pair of strong hands forced his eyelids apart. Thin metal clamps were placed on either side, forcing his eyes open.

Distantly, Gavin heard someone say, “Start the Engine,” And colors began to dance across his vision. When Gavin started to scream, they forced a muzzle over his mouth. It was metal and dug into the skin of his nose. He knew it was bleeding again. The colors hurt like knives, and they pushed so far into his skull that all he could do was try not to cry.

Just as suddenly as it began, it stopped. The lights turned off, the noise in his head stopped, and the doctors disappeared. He wriggled and found the straps to be loose. With some careful squirming, Gavin got his hands free. He tore off the gag and clamps as painlessly as possible. Everything was dark now, which was just bizarre. Where had the power gone? Gavin took another look around. On the table beside him was a small black flashlight, and the room was empty. He grabbed it as he hoisted himself to his feet, and stumbled towards the open door.


	2. Meeting

The lightbulb above his head flickered, giving one last valiant attempt at illumination before it blew out. The darkness in the asylum was all-consuming, harsh like a heavyweight on his shoulders. He raised his camera and flipped on the night vision. Everything became awash with green, showing him the half-destroyed room. Shelves were tossed carelessly around, chairs were upturned and bashed to pieces, and debris was scattered all over the floor. Connor crept forward to what he hoped was the exit. Blood streaked the walls in dull crimson. 

Glass crunched, harmonizing with the creaking of old wood under his feet. Just ahead he could see a door slightly ajar. He slipped out of the destroyed room and into the hallway. One end was boarded up, the other blocked by large shelves of some kind. Across from him was the door to another room, it was also propped slightly open. Seeing no alternative, he walked in. This room was in much better shape than the previous one. Most furniture was still intact, and a TV was mounted into the wall on the far end. Underneath it was a few small couches and loveseats, as well as a modest coffee table that held a few books. 

Connor flipped off the night vision, but kept his camera up and filming. Anything was valuable evidence at this point, he thought. Just as he had reached the coffee table, leaning down to pick up one of the books, a horrid shrieking filled the room. Connor reeled back with a cry of surprise. It wasn’t human, the sound was too electronic for that. A glance upwards revealed the TV turned on, displaying white static. He breathed a sigh of relief. Just interference then. His migraine worsened instantly. Connor slipped a small bottle from his pocket, twisting off the cap and popping a pill. It was only now that he began to question his own decision to come here. Surely there were people better equipped to handle this than some down on his luck reporter? Then again, he thought as he looked around, who would do anything about this? Cyberlife had their fingers in every pie that there was. Nobody would go against a company like that. Anyone who tried was buried, he thought bitterly. He shook his head to clear the thoughts and trudged on. 

The next door to his right lead out to the hall again, past the shelves. A few boxes and a filing cabinet stood in front of him, though the gap between them was wide enough for Connor to shimmy through. He saw lights flickering ahead, revealing the bloody drag marks that drew a grotesque path over the floor. Swallowing the bile in his throat, Connor moved forward. A spare battery sat in his pocket, and he quickly switched it out. No use having his camera die on him now, of all times. As he went down the hall, Connor noticed a door to his left. There wasn’t anything special about it, just old wood, but he felt the urge to open it. Inside was a simple office, the kind with a desk, computer, and wastebasket. Completely impersonal aside from the file laying in front of the blue screen. He picked it up, thumbing through the papers inside. It was information about something called “Project Walrider”, and a file on someone named “Billy”. 

“THERAPY STATUS: 

Patient claims to have progressed to self-directed lucid dream states. MORPHOGENIC ENGINE activity observed at an unprecedented scale. Continuing stage 4 hormone schedule.” 

He shut the file again, frowning. What was the Morphogenic Engine? He slipped it into his jacket for safekeeping and moved on. The feeling of unease only increased as Connor continued on, eyes darting around for any sign of another person. Nobody, of course not. He stood inside a different room now. One with a wooden “ramp” that led into an open vent. The vents were large enough to fit a grown man, he noted. A dull banging above his head caused him to jump. It sounded like someone was crashing around in the vents. He shivered and shuffled out of the room. All the doors leading out were locked tight. Connor looked at the open vent, sighed, and climbed in. 

Although large enough to fit him, the vents still felt tight and restrictive. The ever-present smell of blood didn’t help much either. He hopped out of the vent at the other end and found himself in a more brightly lit space. This must have been the lobby before, he reasoned. Connor opened the nearest door and barely stopped himself from screaming. A corpse swung towards him, causing Connor to stumble away. He realized nothing was moving anymore and crept in. His harsh breathing was the only sound in the space, keeping him grounded as he wound his way through bookshelves. 

The night vision was a blessing, he thought, and then promptly rescinded that thought as he came upon the end of the shelves. A pile of severed heads lay beneath the corpse of a member of security. Or at least, that’s what the man looked like to Connor. He wore riot gear, and he was impaled on a hook or pipe. Connor fought the urge to vomit and stepped back. As he did, the man gasped, reaching out desperately. When he spoke, it was strangled and hasty, “They killed us. They got out. The Variants. You can’t fight them, you have to hide!” He paused, choking on his words, “...You can unlock the main doors from Security Control. You have to get the fuck out of this terrible place.” The man let out one last gurgle, dripping blood down his face as he went limp. Connor was sure he’d never move again. 

Shaking, he turned around and slipped through the second door. He could hear breathing, but he didn’t know if it was himself or something else. He walked around as silently as he could, coming to another gap between cabinets and a wall. Just as he began to squeeze inside, a large and meaty hand grabbed him by the shirt. 

“Little pig,” the man snarled, hefting Connor into the air. He only saw a little. White hair, flesh missing around half of the mouth, and bloodshot blue eyes. Connor screamed, clawing and begging with the figure. The creature didn’t listen and threw him back. The glass shattered on impact, and he went crashing down. Connor hit the ground and it all went black. 

The waking was slow, like swimming in jello. It danced away from him over and over, leaving him disoriented and tired. Sleep was calm and cool, but his brain screamed to push him back to the harsh, aching reality. His eyes opened and fell shut, trying to break through the pain and sluggishness. He looked up, staring at a face he didn’t recognize. A young man, blonde with short hair and a strange smile. “And who are you, then?” he murmured, slow and soothing. Connor succumbed once more to sleep. 

  
  


Gavin’s eyes darted around uneasily in the dark. He could head distant screams, both those of madmen, and of frantic staff. Any pity he felt for them was overshadowed by fear for himself. How was he supposed to escape? There was nowhere to go but forward. The flashlight was too small to be effective as a weapon, so he pocketed it for the time being. There was enough light to guide him without drawing unwanted attention. Shadows of people flitted across the walls ahead, serving to heighten his fear. 

Glass doors stretched out in front of him, bathed in green and yellow light. The world had taken on a septic quality, burning and boiling around him. That might have just been the pipes leaking steam, though. A scream of pain drew his attention to the left, past a dirty pane of glass. Four or five patients were surrounding an operation table. One had his beefy arms hooked around the throat of a doctor, and another was perched above him. Gavin rushed past before they saw him and decided to have him join in as well. 

It was amazing how quickly the place had devolved. Plastic walls were torn, blood smeared the walls, and Gavin had seen at least four corpses strewn about in the last five minutes. He saw a door up ahead and rushed to it. 

“Where the fuck are you going?” Someone hissed. Gavin stopped dead in his tracks and stumbled backward, away from the voice. He hadn’t seen the patient in the dark, but now he was rushing at Gavin with his face split into a wild grin. 

“Oh fuck that!” Gavin yelped and sprinted the other way. The patient was faster than him and was getting closer with every second, dirty hands reaching for the back of his collar. He darted into the first open door he saw and almost sobbed with relief as he slammed it shut. There was an open vent on the wall, large enough to fit him, with a crate underneath for easy access. He didn’t hesitate to climb inside and drag himself through the cramped space. He could hear two men talking in hushed voices below him. Something about a radio? A way out? Gavin crept as quietly as possible and hopped out of the other side. He fought the urge to retch at the stench of death all around him. Glass crunched under his feet, and he felt grateful for the brown shoes they let him wear. Dimly, a light flickered above him. It was a part of the asylum he’d never been in, he realized. One of the lower levels. That meant there was only one way to go, up. 

He crept through the halls, avoiding the screaming variants with surprising competence. There was a staircase on the other end of the building that leads through a courtyard. He could almost walk freely through here, seeing as there were few and far-between variants. There was a dirty sign that read “Men’s ward” at the top- Gavin felt relief. This was close to the exit! He rushed inside and scrambled up the stairs. 

He was about to head into the main office when a Variant burst out into the hall in front of him. It bared its teeth, eyes wild and unseeing. Scraggly black hair hung down around its face, and it wore a ratty doctor’s coat. Gavin yelped and ran the other direction. There was nowhere to hide except a vent up ahead, and even that was a risk. Gavin took a deep breath and jumped, fingers catching on the edge. He pulled himself up and out of the Variant’s reach. It wouldn’t let up, pacing below him with angry growls. With that way of escape gone, Gavin began to make his way down the vent. 

 

When Connor awoke again, he was alone. No sign of the strange priest that had been hovering over him before. Hesitant, he took his camera and got to his feet. “Hello?” he called. No response. There was light in this room, unlike the darkness that permeated the rest of the asylum. His camera was, thankfully, unbroken. And a quick examination proved that it was still recording without issue. He let out a sigh of relief. 

It seemed like he was alone, but Connor didn’t know how long it would stay that way. He hurried past the reception desk and slipped into a darker room. Computers and desks were lined up in rows. They all looked to be out of commission. Connor kept going. In the far distance, he could hear the snarling of other patients followed by quiet screaming and crashing. A shudder ran through his body at the noise. The sooner he got out of here, the better. 

The room led to another small hallway, which was filled with boarded-up doors. On one end, Connor saw a man in a wheelchair, slumped over. He didn’t seem to be awake, but still. Connor crept by as quietly as he could to avoid alerting the man to his presence. Beyond him, the only open door was a room full of men. They all stared blankly at a screen full of static. What were they seeing? Connor took a piece of debris from the floor and tossed it into the room. It clattered by the nearest man’s feet, but he didn’t react. That was good enough, and Connor silently crept past them and to the other side of the hall. There was a keycard there for the security control room. He stuffed it into his pocket and continued on his way. 

The only way forward was locked, so Connor made his way back into the main area. He was grateful that his camera wasn’t broken because nobody would believe him if he wasn’t recording this. The only way out was a menacing set of stairs or the hallway. He slipped down the hallway and felt a rush of relief as he read the sign on one of the doors. “Security” it said, perfect. He placed the keycard against the reader and slipped inside.  

Just like the rest of the asylum, death hung in the air with a rancid stench. His eyes watered with it, and he pointedly ignored the corpse lying just to his left. Computer screens lit the small room in a dim glow, broken by two human sized lockers that stood directly across from the door. Connor turned away from them and to the main security control. The light was almost blinding, a stark contrast to the darkness he had just slipped out of. 

Connor squinted, allowing his eyes to adjust as he tapped on the keys. Things began to load up slowly, a loading screen crawling quickly but not quickly enough across his vision. He had become so focused on the bar that the rest of the world faded out. 

Gavin cursed quietly as he squirmed his way along the vents. He’d been in there for far too long, and his body trembled from the effort of dragging himself through. There had been no visible way out yet, and Gavin was starting to panic. “Stupid asylum. Stupid fucking job off-” beneath his hands the vent gave way, swinging open and pitching him out into the hall. He landed with a pained groan, rubbing his eyes. There was a very audible yelp from his left side. 

Gavin dragged himself up to look at the sound. It was a man, standing stock still inside a little room filled with computers. He had messy brown hair and was wearing a far too big hoodie that swallowed him whole. It made his medium stature look tiny. The most interesting thing, Gavin thought, was the camera dangling around his neck. The joy of seeing another person closed up his throat, and he needed a second to calm down. 

“You... He began, wincing at the roughness in his voice. He swallowed and tried again. “You’re not from here, are you?” The man flinched as Gavin struggled to his feet, and looked as if he was about to bolt. “I’m not… I’m not gonna hurt you. M’not crazy,” He shook the pins and needles out of his legs and stepped closer. “My name is Gavin Park, who are you?” 

The man watched him wearily for a moment, seeming to internally debate something. He smiled shakily. “I’m Connor, Connor Upshur,” Gavin paled instantly. 

“As in… the reporter?” He asked. The hesitant smile immediately wiped itself off of Connor’s face. 

“How do you know th-” He was cut off as the computer beside him sputtered and shorted out. All the screens went black, plunging them into the dark. Down the hall, a crash sounded. Gavin whirled around in horror and saw a hulking variant stumbling out of one of the rooms. 

“Fuck! Connor, hide!” Without thinking he shoved Connor into one of the lockers and slammed in the door. He just barely managed to get inside his own when the variant looked inside. Half its face was mangled, its mouth torn open to reveal broken and bloody teeth. One eye was being held open by small clamps, empty and unseeing. Gavin covered his mouth to muffle the sound of his breathing as it lumbered around. Its nose twitched and its chest rumbled with a growl. 

“I know you were here. I’ll find all you whores…” it turned away, and Gavin thought they were in the clear when a choked off sob sounded from the locker beside him. The variant spun around and wrenched the door open, dragging Connor out by his collar. He struggled helplessly, clinging to the variant’s arm. 

“H-hank, please,” Connor choked out. His eyes were welling with tears. Well shit. Gavin burst out of the locker and slammed his shoulder into the Variant’s- Hank’s?- stomach, causing him to drop Connor with a thud. 

Gavin grabbed Connor’s arm and wrenched him to his feet. “Fucking run!” The two took off down the hall again, followed by Hank's thunderous shouts and footfalls. He wanted to ask why Connor seemed to know the variant, but they had more pressing concerns at the moment. Above their heads, Gavin spotted an open vent and a desk pushed below it. “Get in the vent! Now!” He shoved Connor onto the table and scrambled up after him. His feet just slipped inside as Hank went barrelling past, yelling and cursing. 

The two of them slumped against the cold metal, panting. After a few seconds, Connor started to crawl forwards and Gavin followed. They made their way through until an opening presented itself, dropping them into one of the many rooms in the asylum. Gavin glanced over at his new companion, who was leaning heavily on the wall. “So,” he began, “I have a ton of questions, and I’m sure you do too, but,” Gavin paused, collecting his thoughts, “We need to get out of here, and we have a better chance of doing it together. What do you say? Temporary alliance?” Gavin held out his hand and waited. 

Connor stared at it for a second. On one hand, he didn’t know how trustworthy Gavin actually was, especially considering he seemed to be a patient. On the other hand… well, he didn’t want to brave this place alone. He had seen Hank, his mind screamed, and he could feel his legs shaking. There was no way he’d survive this place without help. 

“Temporary alliance,” Connor agreed, and took Gavin’s hand. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These updates are sporadic as hell and I am so sorry for that but this WILL be completed I assure you


	3. Sinister

“So…” Gavin began, without any clue as to where that sentence was going. They hadn’t left the room yet, combing it for anything useful they could take with them. All that they had turned up was extra batteries for Connor’s camera and a broken vent grill. The desk in the corner had been overturned, and papers were scattered across the floor. The only light source was a small lamp, clearly on its last legs as it flickered and sputtered. Now that the imminent danger of a hulking variant was gone, Gavin was brimming with questions for his new companion.

“So?” Connor asked, turning to him. He held the camera loosely to his chest, pointed at Gavin. He probably thought he was being subtle, judging by how his fingers lightly covered the red light that blinked on the front. Gavin smiled at him, but it fell when he saw how unnerved Connor looked. “You’re a patient.” 

Gavin blinked. “Uh, no? Well, technically yes, but not really. I used to work for Cyberlife. If you really are Connor Upshur then-” He paused to lick his lips. Hopefully, this wouldn’t destroy their truce immediately. “I’m the one who sent you that email.” A beat of silence followed where they just stared at one another. Connor’s mouth opened and closed like a fish before his brain caught up. 

“You-? You’re the security guy?” He finally sputtered. Gavin grimaced, which was answer enough. Connor dropped his hand from the camera, letting it swing loosely from its strap. “If you really are him, then why are you in patient’s clothes? What happened to you?” 

The sudden influx of questions threw Gavin off. Connor didn’t seem mad at all. In fact, he looked manic with curiosity. Better than him freaking out about it, Gavin would take what he could get. 

“Well, I got caught sending you the email and Cyberlife had to make sure I wouldn’t be a liability. I never should have taken the job, but the pay was good and I thought they were helping people. They stuck me in the engine, but the riot happened before any real damage could be done” Gavin laughed bitterly. “That was still the worst ten minutes of my life. I have a question for you too, Upshur.” He stepped closer to Connor, who backed away in response. He was still jumpy, for good reason. “That Variant earlier… you called him Hank. Why? Do you know him?” 

As soon as he asked, Gavin regretted it. All the blood had drained out of Connor’s face, his eyes looked just over Gavin’s shoulder, and the camera squeaked in protest as his hand clenched around it. “I… Yea. I knew him.” He fell back against the wall and sank down to his knees. “That was my dad.” 

Oh fuck. Gavin had fucked up, hadn’t he? “I’m so sorry Connor, I had no idea,” 

“No no, it’s fine I just… It hurts, seeing him like that.” Connor murmured. He turned off the camera and pulled his knees close to his chest. “He disappeared two years ago, I had no idea that he was here. That he was a _variant,_ or whatever they call it.” 

Gavin sat down beside Connor. He was clearly upset because he didn’t even flinch. “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

Connor nodded.“He didn’t even recognize me! I mean, I guess I should have known. We were getting close to breaking a story that would expose a lot of the illegal things Cyberlife is doing. He disappeared after we got a cease and desist from their PR team. My brother followed suit maybe a year later and I gave up the story. I thought they were both dead, but if Hank is here…” 

“Then your brother might be too,” Gavin finished. “And you probably want to find him, am I right?” Gavin wouldn’t blame him if he did. The agony of losing your whole family must be unbearable. What would he have done if Tina had been the one to disappear? He’d do anything to get her back. 

Connor wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve and stood. “I do. If there’s a chance of me saving them, then I want to take it. If you want to part ways here, I’d understand.” He looked down at Gavin expectantly. 

“I don’t want to. Part ways, I mean. We have a better chance of survival if we stick together. Plus, if you can get either Hank or your brother to recognize you then we’d have a substantial group. It might be the difference between going home and ending up as a smear on the wall.” Maybe Gavin’s reasoning wasn’t entirely altruistic- he knew that he’d most likely let Connor’s family die if it came to that- but it was safer for both of them this way. Two of them might be more likely to fight off a variant than one. 

Regardless of that, Connor was relieved. With Gavin being a security guard, he would most definitely be good protection. “You make a fair point. In that case, let’s figure out where the hell we are, huh?” Connor said. Beyond the door echoed a distant scream, giving them pause. “I’m not opening the door first,” 

Gavin groaned. “Oh fuck you, man.” He grabbed the broken vent grate and held it out in front of him as he inched towards the door. With a trembling hand, he reached out and turned the knob. He flung it open and took several steps back. Nothing happened, even when the door slammed into the nearby wall with a thud. Placated but not reassured, Gavin crept into the hall with Connor in tow., Gavin realized he had a vague idea of where they were. “Okay, I think the courtyard is that way,” He pointed to the left, towards flickering lights and a mesh door. “And the other way is back into the male ward. I know you want to find your father, but I’m pretty sure he wants to kill us. We need to be careful if we go back. It’s also the fastest way out” 

The humming of fluorescents above their heads abruptly stopped. Whatever light they had flickered out as the power finally gave up. Gavin cursed under his breath. “Just hold on, I had something.. Aha! There it is!” He pulled out his flashlight and flipped the small switch on its side. A bright beam cut through the darkness, and cast light on the variant standing at the end of the hall. Its eyes flashed in excitement as it turned its hulking body towards them. He, Gavin noticed, was wearing a guard’s uniform. 

“Shit!” Connor grabbed Gavin’s arm and sprinted the other way. A wild laugh followed them as the guard variant gave chase. The frantic bobbing of the flashlight wasn’t helping either, giving them a clear path but no way of orienting themselves as it bounced across the walls. Connor hadn’t let go of Gavin’s arm yet, and he knew his nails must be digging in at this point but Gavin didn’t complain. He surged ahead and wrapped both hands around the door handle- locked. Of course. 

Beside the door was a window, one of the few that were still intact. Connor went for the latch as Gavin turned and threw the vent grate towards the monster. It hit its face, only slowing it down for a second. That was enough for Connor to wrench the rusty hinges upward and throw his leg over the edge. He landed with a dull thump as Gavin launched himself out as well. “Go go go!” He grabbed Connor by the hood and threw him into the dark courtyard. Thankfully the drizzling rain and darkness hid them well, as the variant stopped chasing them and began to look around, grunting in frustration. 

Gavin let out a relieved laugh. “We should go straight, I’m sure there’ll be a way back inside soon- Connor?” he looked around but was unable to see anything through the dark and rain. Gavin stopped running for a moment. Turning on his flashlight was too risky with that variant still searching for them, but he was blind like this. “Are you there?” No response. Shit. He stepped forwards and shuffled through the wet grass. His shoes were soggy at this point, designed more for indoor use. Calling out again was off the table, Gavin could see several Variants roaming the grounds, growling and shouting unintelligibly. Connor must have gone straight, so if he kept going they would most likely cross paths soon. Satisfied with this plan, Gavin crept forward once more. 

Avoiding all the denizens of the courtyard was surprisingly difficult. They seemed to have better night vision than him, as they had no problem picking their way through the darkness. Gavin had to rely on occasional flashes of lightning or his flashlight stuffed under his sleeve to navigate. Eventually, he bumped against a set of stairs that lead up to a small door. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he went inside. Thankfully there was some light. Above his head, he could see a sign, old and rusted that read ‘Female ward’. How far had he run? That was on the opposite end of the asylum! Goddammit. To his left was an ominous hallway, and to the right was an equally creepy swath of darkness. The worst, however, was the set of stairs in front of him, which lead up into nothingness. Fuck that, he’d risk the hall. A quick look with his flashlight revealed nobody, so Gavin figured he was in the clear. 

As with the rest of this godforsaken place, blood was smeared across the wall in wild swirls and splatters, like dragging hands. “Oh goodie, how artistic,” Gavin muttered to himself. 

“Didja hear that, boys? Sounds like someone’s nearby,” Gavin froze. Who was that? The voice was faint and far away, but close enough to be clear. “We might have a new one,” They spoke gravelly and low, like an older man. 

“Oh good, _he_ has been getting impatient,” A higher, reedier voice replied. More than one? That sounded extremely bad. Gavin saw the hall diverged up ahead, and dipped into it. No need to get closer to those people than need be. Unfortunately, the side hall ended in a blockage. Chairs and shelves stacked so tight that Gavin knew it would be dangerous to dismantle. Instead, he backtracked and went straight. It brought him closer to the voices, but maybe he could quietly sneak around. No luck, as they seemed to be inside a strange maze of bookshelves and toppled dressers. He clambered in through an opening and began to shuffle through. He could hear the footsteps of what he assumed to be the source of the voices get rapidly closer. Fuck. 

“We gotta get im, Gramps. _He’ll_ go after us next if we don’t” Another voice said, more nasally than the first two. The low voice laughed in response. 

“I’d love to see him try! He can’t get me down! Though you’d make a good ceiling decoration, junior.” Another bought of gravelly laughter echoed off the walls. Gavin moved faster, trying not to crush anything under his feet that might make noise. One of the people must have slammed their fists into the bookshelves because several boards and bits of debris came tumbling down onto Gavin. He yelled in surprise and covered his head. “There he is!” the old man shouted. A hand launched between the shelves and grabbed at Gavin’sshoulder. He threw it off and began to run, stumbling over books and scattered debris as he went. 

The man who was chasing him- the old man, maybe?- was gaining fast. He clearly knew his way through the shelves better, but Gavin had the advantage of a head start. He burst past the endless walls of books and launched himself down another set of stairs. There were so many here, it was ridiculous. He turned to look behind him and skidded to a halt. The people who were chasing him stopped at the top and regarded him with a smile. It was just one person, grinning in the shadows. “Say hello to _him_ for me, will ya?” The variant turned and slipped back into the maze. There was that “he” again. Whoever “he” was must be bad news. 

With his legs aching and his chest heaving for breath, Gavin took a moment to take in his surroundings. Dark, bloody walls. Nothing new there. Scattered tables, also normal. A folder sitting on one of them. Okay, that was new. He opened it and flipped through. The pages were torn up, barely legible and stained red like the rest of this place. All he could make out was a name and a few sentences “Patient 99, convicted of five counts of murder. Severe delusions.” The rest was too muddled to make out. Gavin tossed the folder to the floor. That wouldn’t have been much help regardless, it’s not like there was an instruction manual for fighting off men twice his size with murderous intent lying around somewhere. 

The light here was dim, barely there. He couldn’t hear anyone roaming around, however, so he risked turning on his flashlight once more. He saw another room adjacent to where he was currently standing, which opened up into a space that seemed full of tables still upright. It was all very eerie, but far preferable to an actual variant. As soon as he stepped in, Gavin wished he hadn’t. 

The smell was horrendous, worse than anywhere else he’d been so far. Dried blood and the warm stink of rot permeated the air around him. A glance to the side revealed the source of the stench. Spread across the table was a chopped up corpse. It had been laid intentionally, its arms folded like a sarcophagus and its lips sewn shut. Gavin gagged. “Who has the time to do something like that?” He held the flashlight closer and prayed that he’d find Connor soon. Braving this alone seemed impossible. Back in the other room, he could hear the man with multiple voices say something, too low for him to properly make out. He hurried away from the garish display and the variant. Whatever came next couldn’t be worse than the things he’d already seen. 

A little way past the body he could see the exit. A heavy door with a glass pane set into it. Maybe he could take a long way around and find Connor back in the male ward. He reached up to grab the door handle. 

“Hello there, darling!” Gavin leaped back with a shout. Standing on the other side of the door was another variant. Its eyes were blue and bright, staring down at Gavin with a sort of unhinged malice. “Oh dear, did I scare you? I’m very sorry,” It purred. A massive red wound covered the left side of its face, stark against its pale skin and sharpened teeth. A mess of black hair fell around its face, and it didn't wear the usual patient's uniform. Instead, he wore a black vest and dirty white shirt. The vest was too small, not meant to fit a man of his stature. Gavin knew who this was! This was the same guy that tried to ask Gavin for help in the observation room, right before he sent the email about Cyberlife. Of all the people to meet… The variant stepped to the side and lumbered away, still talking aloud. Gavin didn’t hear a word over the ringing in his own ears. What he did pick up on was the creak of a door opening to his left, and the sound of the variant calling for him. “Oh, Darling! Come say hello, won’t you?” 

 

Connor was trembling. Gavin had thrown him incredibly roughly, and his camera had knocked the wind clean out of him when it jammed into his chest. Blindly, he stumbled to the side and away from the heavy footfalls that chased him. He managed to grab his camera and use the night vision to leap back into the male ward into a window a little way down. The large variant didn’t seem to be chasing them anymore. “Gavin, we made it!” He turned to look behind him but saw no one. “Where are you, buddy?” Connor poked his camera out of the window and used it to look around, but couldn’t see anyone aside from the variant, still marching around aimlessly. Gavin had just disappeared. Shit. Hopefully, he wasn’t dead, but from what he could see the courtyard was infested with Variants, so he wasn’t holding out hope. 

The male ward was extremely dark. If it wasn’t for his night vision, Connor was sure he’d have fallen and cracked his skull open by now. There was an unbelievable amount of debris scattered around, and more than one corpse splayed out to trip over. He picked his way through the halls and up a narrow flight of stairs. The darkness seemed heavier here, permeated with the faint screams of variants beyond the thin walls. 

A door slammed open behind him, nearly flying off its rickety hinges. Connor whirled around to see a pair of huge, naked men standing. Shoulder to shoulder they were wider than the entire doorway, and faint light illuminated their matching crooked grins. “I want his liver,” one said. 

“Very well,” the other replied. Connor turned and sprinted the other way. There was some scuffling as the two beasts arranged themselves to get through the doorway, then they were after him. Connor skidded around a corner and slammed into the wall with a grunt of pain. An open door stood in front of him, his saving grace. He sprinted inside and threw the door shut behind him. 

There was a small dumbwaiter on the opposite side of the room. He realized this must be one of the laundry rooms for cleaning staff or something similar. “Hey! You!” He jumped, looking up at the source of the voice. It seemed to be someone above the dumbwaiter. “You’re not one of them, are you? Get in if you want to live!” As if on cue, he heard wood splintering behind him as one of the men started crashing against the door. Shit. He clambered into the dumbwaiter and shut it as quickly as he could. Just in time, as he barely avoided the meaty hands reaching for him. 

“Man, that was a close one, wasn’t it?” Connor looked up to see the source of the voice and his blood ran cold. The man that was smiling down at him was far from welcoming, and definitely not sane. His scarred mouth stretched into a wide grin as he reared his fist back. Pain bloomed in Connor’s nose, and he went down with a shout of pain. 

He tried to get to his feet, but the man kicked him in the side with enough force to make his body jolt. The world spun around him as his vision got fuzzy. “You’re a pretty boy, ain’tcha? Great! My daughter’s always loved pretty boys. You’re no ken doll, but we can make it work. C’mon, up you go,” the man grabbed Connor’s arms and hauled him up and into a wheelchair. One of the rickety ones that were designed for temporary use. “Alright, arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times now. Easy, easy.” He stepped behind the wheelchair and began pushing Connor out of the room. Despite his best efforts, his spinning vision made it impossible to see where he was or how he might escape. Why were all the variants freakishly strong? It made surviving an inconvenience. 

They wheeled down a hallway that was remarkably cleaner than the others, albeit dimly lit. It opened up into a convergence between hallways. On his left was an open door, revealing the howling wind and rain outside. Connor winced at the noise, but the variant seemed to find it hysterical. “Lovely weather outside! You wanna go? I mean it! Go, go, be free, I’ll wait here.” Connor swiveled his head to look up at the variant, mustering up the best glare he could. This didn’t seem to phase his captor, who smiled amicably in return. The scars marring his face distorted it into something much more sinister. “No? Alright, nose to the grindstone I like that. Come on then.” The wheelchair turned towards the elevator, which Connor didn’t even realize was there until just then. With renewed vigor, he tried to struggle free with no success. He was pushed into the cramped elevator as the variant pressed the button and the doors closed, sealing his doom. Where was Gavin when he needed him? 


	4. Bloody

Fear. No matter how many times the men in uniform came for him, he always had the same fear tightening his throat in a noose. Their huge boots thumping down the hall was a sure sign that someone was going to get hurt. It made the others antsy, restless. Sometimes the patients they took came back. Sometimes they didn’t. Rustles and murmurs began, followed by louder shouting and jeering. One of the men slammed his baton against the wall, and the echoing clang scared everyone into silence. Silently he prayed that they wouldn’t stop at his door. 

God hadn’t heard him though, as their steps halted and he heard the turn of a key in the lock of his door. He ran his tongue over the sharpened points of his teeth, filed carefully down with stolen sandpaper and nail files. “Alright, on your feet, Nines. If you’re good we won’t sedate you this time,” One of the guards said. That was a lie, they liked hurting him. They’d do anything to justify it. Still, it was better to cooperate. He got to his feet and held his hands out. The guard stepped back as he did. They looked so tiny like this, each at least a head shorter than him. But they were healthy and had tasers, whereas he trembled from the effort of standing, so it wasn’t a fair fight. The largest of the guards stepped forward and held his arms behind his back and clicked on a pair of handcuffs. Surrounded by the rest, he was frogmarched out of his cell and down the hall. 

Usually, they would take him to one of the testing chambers and he’d spend the next few hours in a haze of pain, but not this time. Instead of going straight and then taking him left into the labs, they continued on their way, leading him down to the lower levels. He’d never been taken this way before, what was going on? Nines began to shift in agitation, which earned him a tap from one of the batons. “Chin up, big guy! They’ve chosen you for some new testing, you should be honored. We’ve had some reaaaal breakthroughs thanks to you,” the guard laughed at him. Plucky and young, He noted. No wonder he was so unafraid in comparison to the rest. Hadn’t yet seen the things that Nines could do. 

“Alright Ninety-nine, in you go,” Nine’s eyes widened as he saw what laid before him. An observation room, with a huge glass window that separated a team of scientists from the actual chamber below. There sat some sort of chair, covered in thick straps and tubes. Panic took over and he started to struggle. The chain between the handcuffs snapped. They were not going to stick him in that shit! “Woah, hey! Restrain him!” One of _them_ snapped. Nines snarled in return. 

”Fuck you!” He wrenched himself out of their grips and sprinted up to the glass. Amongst all the scientists stood a small and frightened looking security guard. His face had gone pale as soon as Nines got close. Unlike the others, he seemed genuinely horrified by what was going on. “Help me! You can stop it- I know you can! Help me!” He cried, slamming his fist uselessly into the glass. For a moment the man seemed to even consider it, one hand weakly reaching out. 

The guards caught up to him, tearing his hands behind him and dragging him away. He struggled, but with six pairs of hands on him, he stood little chance. “Let me go you jack-booted fucks!” Naturally, this earned him a smack with the baton. They strapped him down and forced the tubes into his mouth, burning his skin. Something in them must be toxic.

 His vision started to give out, and the last thing he saw was the ashen face of the security guard, watching him in stunned silence. Messy brown hair, dull grey eyes, Nines wouldn’t forget him anytime soon. 

 

Gavin scrambled backward from the sound in horror. His back bumped against the table, and he was forced to look away to get around it. When he looked over his shoulder, he could see the variant’s massive head looking into the room, a crooked smile fixated on him. “Come on now, don’t be coy. I know that we’ve met before, little security guard. I remember that face~” 

“Jesus fuck!” Gavin choked out. He turned and booked it to the other end of the room. The door there was blocked by something large and heavy that he didn’t have time to properly look at. He pressed his shoulder and heaved, slowly scooting it out of the way until he could wrench the door open and make it through to the adjacent hall. A bang rattled in his skull as the variant burst out after him. “Is there any chance you might not kill me?” He called behind him. His question was met with cruel laughter. 

“Not even a little bit, my dear!” Well, he’d tried. Gavin swore under his breath and swung around a corner. Doors lined both walls, most blocked up with boards and stacks of furniture. Had the variant done all this? How did he have the time? The way opened up ahead of him to another room. He could see an elevator, though it was broken and clearly in maintenance. On the opposite side of the empty shaft was a metal ladder attached to the wall. It was as good of an escape as any, and the variant was gaining fast. He leaped off the edge and hit the far side with a yelp of pain. 

“What are you doing? That’s dangerous-! You’re less likely to die with me, you idiot!”  the variant called, but Gavin wasn’t listening. His hand closed around the next rung. As he pushed up, one of his wet shoes slid off. He gasped and hastily scrambled to find his footing, but the rung gave out beneath him. The ladder began to tip backward. Gavin could only scream as he went falling down. His back hit the top of the elevator and he was hit with blinding pain. One of the rungs had somehow pierced his arm, sticking in the front of his shoulder. His eyes rolled back in his head and he hand to grit his teeth to keep it together. “I did try to warn you,” the variant said, poking his head over the edge. “Though if you could just stay still, this makes my job much easier.” Gavin grabbed the rung and tore it out with a shriek. The agony tripled, but at least there wasn’t rusted metal inside him anymore. 

Underneath him, the elevator began to rumble. “W-what-“ he stumbled to his feet, and nearly fell over again at the wave of dizziness that overtook him. There was no time to waste, though, as the elevator began to rise. If he stayed on it he’d be crushed to death. Gavin didn’t so much jump as he tipped off the ledge, falling to his knees on the other side. 

“You’re surprisingly resilient, little guard. Then again, it’s always impressive how much _pain_ a human body can endure under extreme conditions,” Gavin groaned in response, ducking into the nearest room he could find. It was getting harder to stay awake as blood oozed out of the wound on his arm. It soaked the sleeve of his uniform in dark red. Two lockers stood there, but not much else. He pulled one open and crammed himself inside. It was a tight fit, but hopefully the variant wouldn’t find him there. “Where did you go~? Come on now, you can’t really expect to escape in that condition, do you? You’re bleeding out. If I don’t kill you, something else will. And the others certainly aren’t as merciful as I am. I’ll give you a quick death, promise!” Not a particularly convincing speech, all things considered. Gavin pressed himself further into the locker and stared out from between the grates with bated breath. 

Hinges creaked as the variant stepped into the room with him. From inside the locker, Gavin got a proper look at how big he actually was. A towering figure, easily a head taller or more than himself. Gavin was used to being a bit smaller than some guys, but he’d never felt tiny until now. As he sat there, something hit him. This must be patient ninety-nine, the guy in the file. Something about severe delusions? Shit. He covered his mouth with his right hand to muffle his breathing. Patient Ninety-nine turned his head toward Gavin’s locker and bared pointed teeth in a grin. “There you are. A valiant effort, but you reek of blood.” The locker rattled as the variant pulled it from the wall. Gavin braced himself against the sides with a gasp of pain. 

“No! Stop, please!” He cried out as his shoulder hit the side, agitating his wound. His begging was cut off by a bark of laughter. 

“Oh no please don’t hurt me Nines, I’m so weak! Hah!” Ninety-nine (or was it Nines?) mocked in a high voice. He tipped the locker against something and heaved upwards. Gavin gasped as he landed on the surface with a thunk. It must be some sort of medical table, as Nines began to roll him out of the room. “I asked you to help me, remember? Before they stuck me in that horrible machine? Begging doesn’t do anything in this place. Nobody’s coming to save you.” 

It was the lucidity that terrified Gavin the most. Nines seemed to be fully aware of what he was doing, yet he relished in it. Gavin had to get away. With a surge of adrenaline he kicked his legs out to slam open the locker door. He heard and snarl of pain as it connected with Nines’ face. No time to waste- he threw his legs over the side and ran as fast as his trembling body allowed. He had no idea where he was now. With his arm in a vice grip to staunch the blood, Gavin slowed for a moment to orient himself. The path split off in two, because apparently this place just wanted him to get lost. He went left before the thudding footsteps behind him could get any closer. 

This led him through a kitchen area and into a large, open hall. Maybe it had been a gym before? Ropes were strung all over the place, pulled taught towards the roof. Gavin followed them with his eyes. He slowed down and couldn’t fight the rolling waves of nausea that went through him. Nines was getting closer, but he didn’t even notice. 

Above him, hanging from the ceiling in the _dozens_ were bodies. All of them were men, and all of them were mutilated. He saw missing limbs, empty faces, fresh blood still dripping to the floor. He started to shake. What the fuck was this? Had Nines done this all himself? He must have, there was no one else here. Whenever he thought he’d seen the worst of it, the asylum proved him wrong. 

“Ah! I see you’ve found the gym. Well, that’s fine. Pretty fun, huh? I had to clean up the place a bit, it was just crawling with these little fellas,” Gavin’s head snapped to the source of the voice. Nines was beaming at him from the other end of the room. In a few large strides, he’d crossed over to Gavin’s side. One hand grabbed his collar and effortlessly pulled him up to Nines’ eye level. Gavin’s feet didn’t touch the floor anymore, dangling uselessly in the face of Nines’ unbelievable strength. “You wanna get a closer look, sweetheart?” 

  
  


 

 

 

 

 

Kamski was swaying in place. His pants were dirty and brown worker’s pants. Connor remembered he used to own a similar pair in highschool, Hank had hated them. He missed the times when pants were the most extreme thing he had to worry about. He wasn't sure when he’d zoned out, but when he blinked he found he was being pushed out of the elevator. The variant hummed a jaunty tune as they went forward. “Who are you?” Connor asked. Maybe he could distract the variant long enough to escape. 

“Elijah, but you can call me Doctor Kamski! Don’t worry, you’re in good hands, buddy.” He gave Connor a pat on the shoulder that sent a jolt of pain through his already throbbing head. They rounded a corner and the words he was going to say died in his throat. A man lay strapped down to one of the patient beds, writhing and screaming. The sound gurgled in his throat, accompanied by a sputter of blood between his cracked lips. “Oh shut up!” Doctor Kamski snapped. “You weren’t putting that tongue to good use anyway.” He kicked the bed and sent the man into another screaming fit.

Connor was let go, and the chair rolled into a pitch black room. “Here we are! Thanks so much for this, bud, my little girl’s gonna be so happy! She’s already six, can you believe it? They grow up so fast,” Kamski shuffled around behind him and flicked the lights on. A sink, splattered with blood, was affixed to the wall. A small table of ominous tools stood next to it. They were covered in blood and rust. Connor swallowed around the lump in his throat. ”Alright, let me just get washed up and- oh?” Kamski looked down at Connor’s neck. He reached out and pulled the camera up off his head. “Home movies! How wonderful- and it’ll give us a chance to talk,” Kamski said. The camera thunked as he placed it on the sink’s edge, lens pointing directly at Connor’s face. He focused on the blinking red light and tried not to panic. 

‘Distract yourself!’ his mind screamed. He looked up at Kamski instead, trying to take in the details of his face. Sharp, intelligent blue eyes looked down at him. There was someone sane in there, hidden by the sticky film of whatever had been done to him. His hair was a matted mess, with half of it pulled up in a scraggly ponytail. It must have been an undercut before, as an inch of black hair grew around the sides of his head. He was wearing an apron, pants, and thick gloves. That was all. When Connor glanced down, he could see small spots of blood left behind by the doctor’s bare feet. He was nearly lucid, but not quite. It made Connor tense up even further. Reasoning with him was becoming increasingly unlikely. 

The straps were firm around his wrists, and no amount of struggling was going to get him out. Was this how he died? Cold, scared, in a bloodied wheelchair? He gritted his teeth and looked to see what Kamski was doing. “Now, I’ve been hearing a little bit of chatter in the halls. People talk. They say you’ve been hangin’ around with that Park guy. That’s bad news man, ex-Cyberlife worker. He’s a little, y’ know,” Kamski whistled and spun a finger around his temple. “But no matter! You seem like a rational guy,” He picked up a large, frightening saw and turned it over in his hand. Connor squirmed as it was placed lightly on his arm. Kamski clicked his tongue in disapproval. “No, No, your skin is much too delicate. Need something smaller. Do you have kids, buddy?” 

“Erm, yes? And I really need to get back to them, so if you could let me go-” Connor began. Kamski cut him off with a wave of his hand. 

“I know you don’t! You don’t have the look about you. Let me tell ya, as a dad, we can recognize each other. You’re too wet behind the ears for it.” He picked up a smaller blade and held it up to the light. “Hmm... Just a bit of flesh…” He pressed it to Connor’s arm until blood beaded up from his skin. “Yes, I think that’ll do.” Connor strained to get away, his brain going on autopilot. He didn’t want to die like this! His struggle yielded nothing but Kamski’s ire. 

“No! Fuck you- let go!” Connor spat, wriggling his arm away. Kamski shook his head and pinned it down firmly, smearing old blood onto the sleeve of his hoodie. Kamski pushed it up for better access. 

“Come on now, you were being so good up until now. This’ll just take a second…” Connor screamed as Kamski slid the knife under his skin, measuring out a small rectangle. “Oh quit being a baby, you’re fine!” He said, sounding exasperated. The pain was unbelievable. Connor could only watch in horror as his skin began to peel back, revealing the sticky lower dermal layers. It was quickly covered with blood, sliding in thick rivulets down his arm and to the floor. Connor retched. 

The last piece was neatly sliced off, leaving behind a rectangle of blood and gore in its wake. The doctor tossed it aside with a wet slap. “See? That wasn’t so hard, now was it? We just need to get ya all wrapped up. Not gonna be a very good doll when you’re all bloody and pukey, eh?” Kamski moved away from Connor’s eye line, humming to himself again. Connor heaved and swallowed the rising bile in his throat. It burned like all hell, hot and cold at the same time. Tears gathered in his eyes. Why had he ever listened to that stupid fucking email? 

When he came back, Kamski was holding a roll of (blessedly) clean gauze bandages, and a less clean shirt. “We’re just gonna get that blood to stop flowing, hm? Don’t worry, you’ve already made it halfway through!” The faucet creaked in protest as Kamski forced it to turn. The water that came out was slightly browned with flecks of rust, but cleaner that Connor had expected. He clenched his teeth as the wet shirt dragged over his wound. This was somehow worse. The abrasiveness of the linen set his whole lower body on fire. He was definitely crying now, trembling in an effort to stay conscious. 

Once he was satisfied with the cleanliness of the wound, Kamski wrapped it up with several layers of gauze and pulled tight. “When that heals a little, we can install the control panel! My little angel’s always loved robots, isn’t that cute? I’m sure she’s going to be an engineer one day,” A pang went through Connor’s heart. He had no doubt this man actually had a daughter, but he wasn’t so sure she was still a child. Or alive, for that matter. “Anyway! Just one more step today and then you can relax. Just need to remove some tissue from the head is all, just to make sure there’s room for all the mechanisms.”

“W-what?” Connor looked over at him in horror. “T-tissue?” 

“Oh, yea! Just a bit of the brain. Takes up a lot of space in that skull of yours, you know?” No, Connor did not fucking know! He was about to get the world’s worst lobotomy from a man who was smiling like it was the most normal thing in the world. He opened his mouth to protest and was cut off by Kamski stuffing the shirt in his mouth. “Now hush up and hold still.” His forehead was pulled back, laying his head against Kamski’s stomach. He started to shiver and push away but was yanked into place by his hair. 

The blade trailed against his temple lightly before Kamski began to push in, expertly cutting a circle in the soft skin. A shriek and crash echoed from back behind him. The knife clattered to the floor as Kamski cursed. “Dammit, that little weasel got away. Wait here, okay buddy? I’ll be right back,” he picked up a terrifying pair of what looked like shears, though they were easily the size of Connor’s head. Kamski vanished around the corner, back into the darkness. 

Connor tried again to wiggle. When he pulled back, he could feel a weakness in the back half of the strap. He braced his feet against the ground and strained upwards. The straps groaned and snapped, letting him free. The shirt hit the floor without a sound, and he stumbled into the sink to empty the contents of his stomach, coughing and whimpering. Somehow he remembered to reach out and throw his camera back over his head. Blood was already soaking through the bandages on his arm. More blood trickled down the side of his head. Connor looked around and saw the spare rolls of gauze sitting on the small table of tools. He grabbed them and hurried out. 

The only way to leave was the same way they came. Now he had the time to get a good look around him, not that he particularly wanted to. A hoarse voice called out from the dark. “Is somebody there? Come closer…” Connor hesitantly peeked through the door and into the next room. He saw a man there, strung up like the rest. His body was torn apart and stitched up in a weak facsimile of a human being. “I’m not a patient, I’m an executive. Like Kamski. Except he got the treatment. He’s too alive, filled with Manfred’s nightmares. They couldn’t control it- nobody can. Nobody. NOBODY!” 

Connor jumped back as the man started to writhe and strain, rattling the chains and metal he was bound by. “What do you mean? What treatment?!” He shouted. There was too much in those sentences to process at once. Who the fuck was Manfred? The man didn’t even hear him anymore. 

“He’ll find you! He’ll kill you! He’s coming now! KAMSKI! KAAAAAAAMSKI!” The man thrashed and screamed. Connor heard the thudding of bare feet getting rapidly closer and swore. That had to be the doctor. He darted around the bed and out of the door on the other side. It was locked, because of course it was locked. He whirled around to see Kamski’s dark form rushing towards him. Having no other choice, he ran around the bed again and past Kamski to the nearest open door he saw. He went past the man with no tongue and to the elevator. But, naturally, it needed a key to work. God must just hate him personally. Connor snarled in frustration and darted out again. To the left of the elevator was a vent, just in reach. He hauled himself up and held his camera to his eye. Everything became awash with green nightvision as he clambered through and dropped down into the hall parallel. 

More “patients” -or whatever Kamski thought of them as- were there. Each tormented in some new, horrific way. Some had their mouths sewn shut, some were missing patches of flesh that had metal crudely shoved underneath the wounded skin. He rubbed his arm and hesitantly stepped past the still lying bodies. One of them burst to life, screaming. “Don’t fucking touch me! I’ll kill you with my mind! Try it! TRY IT!” Connor skittered away. Scraping metal echoed from the other side of the room. 

“Buddy!” Kamski cried, delighted. Connor turned and tore the door behind him open. Kamski’s shouting followed him down the halls as he ran for his life. The door ahead was blocked by a huge, heavy-looking thing. Almost like a chicken wire crate filled with god knows what. Connor gritted his teeth against the pain and started to shove against it. With some effort, he freed the door behind it and ran through. Down the hall, Kamski had begun to catch up. His shouting got louder and louder, incomprehensibly angry that his “Buddy” had run away. 

Connor dared a glance over his shoulder and immediately regretted it. Kamski was hot on his heels, brandishing a huge blade. Where the fuck was he getting these? Connor turned back around just in time to avoid slamming into the bed in front of him. Above it was a vent, its grate dangling loose. He jumped onto the mattress and pulled himself into the vent, ignoring the pain in his arm. This vent dropped down to a bathroom. To the left of it seemed to be a security office or something similar. He saw a gold flash in the dark. He vaulted over a desk into the office and plucked the item off the wall. It was a key. The elevator key, it had to be! Right on time, Kamski crashed into the place, yelling and brandishing his knife. Connor jumped out of the office and took off.

“Go fuck yourself!” Connor crowed over his shoulder, gleefully flipping Kamski off. He heard a thump and an angry shout behind him as Kamski struggled to catch up. A bout of manic laughter escaped him, fueled by adrenaline and relief. He was going to be fine! He leaped back through the vent and slammed the key into the elevator. It started to go down. Kamski’s shouting got closer. No. No, nonononono- Connor watched in horror as Kamski started to force open the doors. All he could do was look helplessly as they were wrenched apart. 

“I’m not done with you yet, buddy!” Kamski bared his teeth and lunged at him. Connor raised his arms and braced them against Kamski’s wrists. The blade swung dangerously close to his face and Connor yelped. He crouched and pushed up, forcing Kamski back out. “No!” he screamed. Connor flattened himself against the back wall to avoid the wild swinging of Kamski’s blade. The elevator kept moving down, and Kamski was forced to crawl between the floor and elevator space. What was going to happen became obvious. Connor covered his face and tried to block out the horrific noise of bone snapping and Kamski’s chilling shriek as the elevator crushed his spine. When he dared open his eyes again, the doctor’s front half dangled limp before him. Connor tried not to throw up for the second time that day. He looked at the ceiling and sighed, relieved. There was a rickety maintenance hatch just above his head that easily swung open with a tug. He groaned and pulled himself to the top of the elevator. Kamski’s legs stuck out onto the floor, still twitching. Connor coughed into his hand and hurried past. Fuck the male ward, he decided. Gavin definitely wasn’t here. He rounded a corner and froze abruptly. 

Before him stood a tall, blonde man. He was wearing a black coat with a high collar, much like the garb of a priest. Connor had stopped questioning where the variants were getting these weird outfits, or the time to change into them. “Hello there. You must be the reporter.” The variant tilted his head and smiled. “I’m father Simon, I’m the walrider’s priest,” 

Connor blinked. “Who’s priest? Are you gonna try and kill me too?” Simon laughed, placing a hand on his chest. 

“Oh no! Of course not. You need to survive, to witness this. Somebody must.” Simon insisted. He held out a pale hand, and Connor saw the blood under his nails. “Your friend, the small one. You want to find him, yes? I can take you to him, if you’d like,” 

It sounded almost too good to be true. Then again, This was the first variant who hadn’t actually tried to murder him. “Where is he?” Connor asked. Simon grimaced and dropped his hand. 

His eyes fluttered to the side, and white teeth poked out to chew at his lip. He looked much gentler than the rest of the variants Connor had seen. Almost normal, sans the strange film over his eyes that they all possessed. “He’s in the female ward, with _him._ If we move now, your friend might still be saved. I know it must be hard to trust me, but I only want what’s best for everyone. You must live, and your friend is a surefire way to achieve this. I wish I could protect you more, but I must attend to... Other duties as well.” Simon met his gaze. “Are you coming?” 

Connor let out a shaky sigh. This was most likely signing his death warrant, but he had to take the chance. Finding Gavin was top priority for his survival. If this “he” made even the other variants nervous, that was a bad sign. He shook Simon’s hand and grimaced. “Yea, take me to him.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Sorry that it’s so long, I just had a lot to say :,) the canon divergence really starts here. 
> 
> Also, I want it to be clear that nothing happening between Gavin and Nines is sexy or hot in any way, and I don’t want it to be seen as such. And Gavin’s thoughts on Nines aren’t entirely accurate and are not my opinions


	5. Truce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning! Discussions of murder and mental health. also, this quarantine is honestly just giving me time to work on this story, so hopefully I can bang out some chapters before the urge to lie down and do nothing consumes me.

Simon didn’t speak as they left the male ward. Connor found himself practically glued to the variant’s side, as the two large men from earlier didn’t attack him while the “priest” was there. Even the variants in the courtyard gave them space and allowed them to pass through unhindered. Simon emanated an air of respect, though the reason why was unclear. Either everyone was involved in whatever church he led, or he was extremely dangerous. Maybe both. Connor didn’t know how he felt about a guy like that taking any kind of interest in him personally. The scars on Simon’s face weren’t nearly as bad as the ones Connor had seen on others either, he was almost handsome. In another life, Connor might have even found him attractive, sans all the creepy prophecy talk. 

“How do you know where Gavin is?” Connor asked. He put his camera up to his eye and swept it over the courtyard. He and Gavin might be coming back here, and it’d be easier if at least one of them knew where everything was. ‘That’s if he’s even still alive,’ his brain oh so helpfully reminded him. Rain drizzled from the sky, soaking cold into his bones. With the wet edge of his sleeve, he gently wiped the blood off his temple. Simon turned to him and grinned. 

“So strange, I forget that you can’t see in the dark like the rest of us. You’ve never been subject to the engine.” Simon reached up to push his hair back, further smearing blood into the light blonde. “As for your question, child, I hear all sorts of things. The other patients are very helpful informants if need be. My good friend Josh told me that he saw someone matching your friend’s description heading into the female ward, specifically the vocational block,” He said. Well, that seemed convincing enough. Connor watched a pair of variants playing basketball on the court to his left. The ball, he saw, was a human head. He looked away again and swallowed the bile rising in his throat. What the fuck was the Engine? Simon could see in the dark? It would certainly explain why he walked so confidently despite it being pitch black. The Engine might be related to Cyberlife’s experiments. Hadn’t he read about that in the file he picked up at the entrance of the asylum? Morphogenic Engine or something. He shook his head to get rid of the swirling thoughts.

The female ward was on the complete opposite end of the asylum, though it looked exactly like the male ward at a glance. Especially for someone without a night vision camera, it was probably extremely disorienting for Gavin. Making it back inside was a miracle considering the circumstances. He would be impressed if he wasn’t about to go into the same deathtrap willingly. Though the chance of Gavin being alive was a risk he was willing to take. Whether Gavin lived or died wasn’t of huge concern to him, but they were better off as a team. ‘You care, even if you can’t admit it. You know you can’t let him die on your watch. Why else would you risk your life for him?’ a voice in his head said. Damn conscience. 

Simon led him through the ward, down into a weird maze of shelves and such. There was another man in there with them, mumbling to himself. Sometimes his voice would change as if someone else was speaking, but Connor only ever saw one shadow prowling about. This dark figure didn’t seem to concern Simon at all. Even stranger, whenever the man got close enough to see them through the shelves, he would turn the other way again. Maybe someone on Simon’s payroll, then. “You mentioned earlier that I had to witness everything, why me?” 

“We’re here,” Simon said, in place of an answer. He gestured forwards, down the dirty flight of stairs before them. “This is where I must leave you. I can only hope that you are resourceful enough to survive Him. However, I have important things I must tend to as well. Good luck.” He turned around and began striding back the way he came. 

“What!” Connor sputtered, “y-you can’t just leave me here! What the hell?” Simon didn’t acknowledge his shouting and disappeared around the corner. In his place came the mumbling man, baring his teeth. He had gashes across his face, one of his eyes milky and mangled. 

Connor skittered away as the man started swinging his fists. “Go! Git! You heard the priest!” The man snapped. He didn’t need to be told twice. Connor turned tail and ran down the stairs, through the first open door he saw. The yelling faded behind him as he turned a corner and sprinted past a broken elevator. Fucking variants. The hall that stretched before him was seemingly endless, lined with boarded up doors. He felt a chill run down his spine. In the middle of the hall stood a long metal table with wheels. On top of it was a locker, its door was thrown open. There were fresh bloodstains inside. He prayed it wasn’t Gavin’s and hurried on. 

He came upon a fork in the path, left and right. Which way had Gavin gone? He didn’t have to deliberate long, as a desperate scream sounded from his left. His sneakers thumped loudly on the floor to the beat of his racing heart. The screaming cut off abruptly as he entered a kitchen, followed by a bark of laughter. “Heavier than you look, little guard! You’d think all the running would make you a lean little thing,” That must be “Him”, Connor realized with a start. Which means the scream came from… He vaulted over the counter and into the next room. 

  
  
  


Gavin was panicking, just a little. Nines had grabbed one of the many ropes that lay in the middle of the room, his other hand dragging Gavin by his collar as he joked about Gavin’s weight, the asshole. Gavin was struggling, trying to get his feet back on the floor. The strength that Nines displayed was terrifying and far more than a normal man should possess. What kind of fucking monster was he? Cyberlife’s experimentation had bred this out of some poor sap who begged him for help. He was, in part, at fault for this happening. ‘And now that mistake is gonna get me killed,’ Gavin thought, scratching uselessly at Nines’ arm. 

Nines wrapped the noose around Gavin’s neck and pulled. The arm that had been holding him up disappeared and Gavin suddenly couldn’t breathe. He gasped, his legs kicking as he uselessly tried to tear free. Nines leaned his weight back in response, hoisting Gavin up amongst the rest. This is it, there was no escaping now. Gavin looked down at his feet. Wait. Was that-? He watched dazedly as a blurred grey shape slammed into Nines, knocking him to the ground. His hands let go of the rope, sending Gavin rocketing back to the unforgiving cement. His luck was rotten, huh? He hit the ground with a groan and blacked out. 

  
  


Connor didn’t know what compelled him to bodyslam the variant without any prior plan, but he wasn’t in a position to question it. He had seen Gavin dangling helplessly and just jumped into action. He and the variant rolled around on the floor, trying to get the advantage on each other. Connor brought his elbow up, slamming it into the variant’s stomach. He used the momentum to roll over and straddle the man, fist pulled back. The variant looked up at him and snarled. Connor froze. The face that stared up at him… blue eyes, strong jaw, wild black hair...that was his brother. His face was scarred and his eyes were bloodshot, but it was his brother nonetheless. “Conan-?” He choked out, barely above a whisper. Conan’s fist connected with his cheek, sending him careening to the side. Connor spat blood. 

“Connor!” He heard Gavin’s hoarse shout from the other side of the room. Thank god, he was still alive after the fall. Conan loomed over him but made no move to attack. He was staring down at Connor with wide, glassy eyes. Connor cursed at the throbbing pain in his cheek. Last he recalled, Conan did not have a punch like that. He’d be lucky if nothing was fractured.

He started as Conan pulled Connor’s hand off his jaw, carefully examining the bruise. “Connor… I know you- I know I do. Y-you’re… family? You have to be.” Connor nodded frantically, not trusting himself to speak. The thought of what Conan must have gone through to barely even remember who Connor was… he shuddered and wiped the tears from his eyes. 

“‘I’m Connor, your brother,” he whispered, grabbing Conan’s shoulders and squeezing. “Don’t you remember?” Conan frowned and bit his lip, the points of his teeth drew blood. 

“Kind of? Barely,” he said, running his hand through his hair. “What you say sounds true, I know it must be, but my brain is so fuzzy… What did you say my name was?”

Connor opened his mouth to answer when- “Fuck… Connor-” Conan whirled around. Gavin tossed the noose aside, wiping blood from his nose. Conan moved to stand, his mouth turned down into a sneer. Gavin’s eyes widened and he scrambled away. “No! Get t-the fuck away! Connor, help!”  

Connor grabbed Conan’s arm and jerked him back. “Don’t hurt him, Conan!” There was a tense silence as Conan debated what he should do, though his gaze never left Gavin’s terrified face. 

Slowly, he turned back to look at Connor. He had to crane his neck to see Conan’s face. Had he always been that tall? Conan was 6’5 if he remembered right, but now he stood at least a full head above Connor, he must have grown. “Why not? Do you know this piece of shit?” He pointed at Gavin. His nails were sharp like claws, unusually thick. Connor swallowed around the lump in his throat and nodded. 

“He saved my life. Please, Conan, he’s not a bad guy. What could he have possibly done to make you want to kill him?” The question of ‘what happened to you?’ hung between them unsaid. Conan’s lips pulled back from his teeth, revealing razor points. Connor’s heart seized in his chest. His soft, sweet baby brother was nowhere to be seen. This Conan was full of hatred, muscles coiled with constant mistrust. 

“He’s not a bad guy? He worked for Cyberlife! He watched what happened to me.” Conan wrenched free of Connor’s hold and dragged Gavin up to his feet. “I remember it so clearly, more than anything else from that hellscape. Your face, terrified and  _ useless  _ as they shoved the tubes in my mouth.” Gavin made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. 

Connor tried to pull on Conan’s arm, but he was immovable. Connor didn’t remember him being this powerful. Gavin started to kick again, trying to find purchase against Conan’s body. “I tried to help, I swear! Please, Conan, is that your name? I sent Connor the email to expose Cyberlife, and they locked me up for it! Please, I tried, please,” Conan’s face darkened. 

“All you did was bring Connor here, you didn’t help anyone.” He reached into the pocket of his black pants and pulled out a small, wicked knife. Connor and Gavin both yelped in alarm. 

“Don't!” Connor grabbed Conan’s arm and wrenched the blade away. “Jesus fuck, please! Just leave him alone.” The panic was making him dizzy. His wounded arm pulsed as he stepped away and held the knife out of reach. 

Conan turned to him, brows furrowed. “You… don’t want me to kill him?” Confusion was written clear across his features as if he couldn’t imagine why Gavin’s life was worth sparing. The disregard for human life made Connor’s stomach knot with anxiety. 

“Yea, I’d appreciate you leaving my only ally here alive,” Connor said. He sighed in relief as Conan set Gavin down. “Let’s focus on finding dad and getting out first, then you can reassess if you still want him dead, okay?” Conan just nodded in silence. Though his lip twitched at the mention of ‘dad’. That was a can of worms Connor wasn’t quite ready to open yet. 

“If I might interject,” Gavin raised one hand weakly, “Conan doesn’t need to kill me, because I’m probably gonna bleed out anyway.” His eyes rolled back into his head and he went down like a sack of bricks. Connor leaped forward to try and slow the fall, while Conan watched with a satisfied smirk. 

Connor held Gavin’s head up, curling around his shoulder. Gavin let out a yelp and jerked back. It was then that Connor noticed the dark stain spreading on Gavin’s arm. “Holy fuck! What happened to him? Did you stab him?!” Connor rummaged around in his pockets for the spare bandages he’d stolen. Conan snorted. 

“I didn’t do that to him, the idiot jumped down an open elevator shaft to get away from me. I  _ tried  _ to tell him not to, but trying isn’t enough.” He glared down at Gavin, whose eyes were struggling to stay open. “Eugh, we need to stop the bleeding before he dies. The kitchen still has some pots of water, I’ll go get one. If you insist on keeping him alive, put some pressure on the wound and make sure he doesn’t pass out.” Conan turned and disappeared into the other room. 

Gavin’s sleeve was sticky as Connor touched it, soaked with blood. He opened the knife he’d taken from Conan and cut the sleeve of Gavin’s uniform off as best as he could. The knife wasn’t very sharp, but it got the job done. Gavin groaned as Connor’s hand steadied him. “Those were my clothes,” He said. Connor rolled his eyes.

“We’ll get you more later. Listen, try to stay awake. Can you do that for me?” Connor pulled his hoodie off and pressed the sleeve to Gavin’s wound, repressing the urge to gag. It looked disgusting, a mess of blood and torn flesh. It was a wonder he managed to stay coherent as long as he had. There was no doubt there’d be permanent damage of some kind. “Come on, I’ll never fucking forgive you if you die on me after all the shit I went through to save your ass.” 

Gavin managed a weak chuckle, waving his good hand lazily above him. “Aw come on buddy, you have your big scary brother now. He’s your brother, right? Yea, I heard you say that. He can protect you!” He patted Connor’s arm, the touch pathetically gentle. “You’re tough for a little twink, aha.” 

“He’s delirious, no wonder. The pain must be intense,” Connor looked up to see Conan standing behind him, holding a pot of water and a cloth slung over his arm. He was smiling at Gavin, who gave him an undoubtedly sarcastic thumbs up. “Cleaning it will be difficult and painful. Let me.” His face lit with excitement as he knelt beside Connor. 

Connor shook his head. “I have a feeling you’d make that worse than it needs to be.” He pulled the cloth from Conan’s arm and dipped it into the water. As gently as possible, he began to wipe the blood away. Gavin grabbed Connor’s hoodie and bit down on it to muffle the pained sounds he made. “Conan,” Connor said, “You said you can’t remember much from before the asylum. What  _ do  _ you remember?” 

Conan grimaced. “Not that I care, but is this the conversation to be having while you clean someone’s wounds?” He shifted onto his heels, uncomfortable. Connor dropped the subject for now and turned back to focus on Gavin. He pulled out one of the rolls of gauze and wrapped it around Gavin’s arm as best as he could. The blood flow had become sluggish now, so Connor let it be. 

“Okay, I get it, you’re not ready to talk. Maybe you can tell me about the scars? They look new,” Connor offered instead. He pushed his hands under Gavin and helped him sit up. Gavin winced and braced one hand against the floor. 

“Was from the machine,” Gavin said, clearly fighting against the urge to pass out. “Saw them do it to him, that’s the picture I sent you. S-something in ‘em made his face get hives. B-but it wasn’t that bad when I saw it, did something happen?” He glanced up, and immediately scooted away. Conan looked positively murderous, half leaning towards Gavin with his fists clenched. 

Connor saw the tension and moved between the two. Conan sat back and slowly placed his hands on his knees. “They itched. I kept scratching at them and they got bigger. Any other parts of my torture you’d like to share, you little bitch?” 

“Sorry, didn’t mean it like that…” Gavin mumbled. His arm buckled and he was forced to grab on to Connor for support. 

“Okay! We’re all tense right now, understandably so. But we need to get out of here, and for that we need a truce, okay? No killing each other,” Connor held his hands up placatingly. It reminded him of how Hank used to get between their fights as children, sternly lecturing them both on their behavior. He grit his teeth against the rush of pain that memory brought with it. “Conan, I’m not strong enough to lift Gavin, especially not with my arm,” He gestured to the bandages, which were already getting faintly pink. Conan’s eyes widened in alarm. “It’s fine, not as bad as Gavin. But I need you to carry him for me.” 

Both Gavin and Conan stared at him with varying degrees of alarm. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Gavin asked. “I can... stand.” He stumbled to his feet, swaying unsteadily for a moment. Connor watched the blood drain from his cheeks and stood, in case Gavin began to tip over. 

“Bravo,” Conan drawled, “you can stand. Can you walk, though?” He folded his arms and watched with poorly concealed amusement as Gavin struggled to stay upright. Connor came around to his right and held him up before he could reacquaint himself with the floor. Conan cackled and flicked Gavin’s nose. He yelped and stumbled back, nearly sending both him and Connor crashing down. 

Connor hastened to steady himself and Gavin. A small stab of pain went through his arm as they were jostled. “Conan! Don’t be an asshole. Please just help?” He looked up pleadingly. Conan threw his hands up in defeat. 

“Fine. I don’t know why, but I can’t tell you no. Were we like this before?” Conan reached out and hefted Gavin into his arms. Gavin curled in as small as he could get, shooting Connor a wild-eyed look. He shrugged in return and Gavin huffed. It was dangerous, yes, but their best option if they wanted to get out quickly. He’d rather feed Gavin something to get his blood sugar back up, but he didn’t have anything and the others definitely didn’t. He’d keep an eye out. Connor pocketed the gauze and knife, just in case. 

Above his head, he could hear the creaking of the bodies strung to the ceiling. He didn’t want to think about them more than he had to. Connor started walking out of the room, keeping his eyes fixed firmly down. “I mean… kind of. You don’t remember anything, do you?” Connor grabbed Conan’s shoulder and sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Fucking Cyberlife bastards. Usually, it was you doing the convincing. Since you’re the little brother and all.” 

That got Conan’s attention, his face twisting in confusion. “I’m younger than you? But you’re...tiny.” Gavin laughed weakly at that. Conan narrowed his eyes, which effectively shut him up. 

Connor gave a tight smile. “Yea, you had a freaky growth spurt in sophomore year of high school and just kept going from there. You got even taller since I last saw you, somehow. But I’m a year older. Do…” He licked his lips, “do you know how old you are?” 

Conan didn’t answer for a moment. He adjusted Gavin in his arms, eliciting a small hiss of pain that went ignored. “No. I don’t remember anything before last week. Look, Connor, it’s hard to think. I keep almost remembering things, but there’s this cloud over my mind. It’s the urge to hurt you both, but also feeling sick at the thought. All I can say is that I care about you, but I don’t remember anything about who you are.” He looked down at Connor. “Whoever ‘Conan’ might be to you, I’m...not.” 

Whatever Connor had been hoping to hear, that wasn’t it. He cursed under his breath and wiped the tears from his eyes. First, they’d tortured his father into a shell of his former self, and now they’d done the same to his brother. At least Conan was lucid enough to recognize him, even a little bit. Gavin shifted in Conan’s arms, reaching out to brush Connor’s hair lightly. 

“Hey. We’re gonna get out of here. ‘Nd then… we’re gonna make those Cyberlife bitches regret bein’ born. I promise. I’ll kick their fuckin’ asses...” He got quieter as he spoke, drifting in and out. Connor gently pushed his hand back up and laughed. At least Gavin was still kicking, it gave him a flicker of hope that they could escape. 

  
  


Nines’ head ached. He gritted his teeth, trying to ignore each pulse in his temples. The pain was accompanied by a buzzing static, like thousands of bugs crawling inside his skull. He grimaced and shook it to dispel the noise. The guard -Gavin, Connor had said- looked up at him with wide eyes. Nines snarled and Gavin hastily averted his gaze. It wasn’t the look that made him angry, it was just overwhelming to focus on more than one thing at a time. There was so much that floated in the front of his mind, just out of reach. Every time he tried to grasp it, to make sense of the distorted shapes, the buzzing would get louder and he would give up. 

Then there were the urges. He had no trouble giving in to those, judging by the blood under his nails. Even just hearing Gavin’s slow breathing had him wrestling his desire to bash the man’s head open on the cement walls. When he’d first woken up, the all-consuming rage had been a surprise. On some level, he knew he wasn’t like this before. But it was all too simple to just give in when a patient tried to attack him. Killing them was an accident, though he found he didn’t regret it at all. Murder only got easier from there, and he had wasted no time clearing out any patients that caused him trouble. He didn’t know much about where he was other than the owners of this place were a company called Cyberlife, the rest was still locked behind that wall of static. Beside him, Connor sneezed and grumbled something about stupid dusty asylums. Nines felt a soft smile creep onto his face. For one fleeting moment, he felt a swell of happiness. Memories or no, he had a familial attachment to Connor that was wholly unfamiliar, and he intended to do whatever it took to keep Connor alive. 

The strangest thing was how little he questioned this. He had no intention of leaving until Connor suggested it, and Gavin would certainly be dead by now if not for Connor’s intervention in Conan’s plans. Even when the buzzing became so loud that he couldn’t hear anything else, Connor cut right through it and cleared his head. 

As Conan regarded their little group, he doubted what Gavin had said, that they could beat Cyberlife. They were a skinny, exhausted man, a half-dead security guard, and a guy who couldn’t even remember his name. Then again, a lot of surprising things had happened to him in the last twelve hours, so who knows what would happen? Why they even needed to ‘beat’ Cyberlife was beyond him, but he had a suspicion that they had caused all the chaos around him. Connor had mentioned Cyberlife bastards when talking about what they had done, so that must be it. Nines paused at the bottom of the stairs leading out. He heard someone shuffling up there and looked at Connor, who shivered. “Let’s find another way out, okay? I don’t want to meet the guy that hangs out up there again if I can avoid it.” 

Nines nodded and didn’t ask. “Okay, we can go out the side door. It’ll get us to the courtyard. Do you know where to go from there?” He’d only been through there once when he was going to the vocational block, though his body instinctively knew where to go. Maybe he’d been there before everything went sideways. 

Connor adjusted his camera. Nines blinked in surprise. He hadn’t even noticed it hanging there. “Yea, kinda. I’ve been through there a few times. We need to get to the male ward. I unlocked the main gates there before… one of the patients chased us off.” He swallowed at the mention of said patient, looking ill. Nines wanted to ask, but Connor’s face told him not to push it. “As long as we’re careful, we can make our way there without too much conflict. I just hope we don’t run into that fucking priest again,” 

“Priest?” Nines asked. There had been vague whispers in the hall he’d overheard, something about a priest and a monster made of shadow. The words of the men here weren’t the most reliable, so Nines had discarded them until now. 

“I’ll tell you later. Now, we need to keep quiet or the variants are gonna hear.” Connor put a finger to his lips. Nines nodded and started back the way they’d come. Variants, huh? Must be the patients. They took a right at the fork in the hall, leading them up and out of a small door. He saw a few patients playing basketball with a head and chuckled. Connor shot him a glare that quieted him. “Okay, shit. Nowhere to go but forward, I guess. Come on.” he flipped up his camera and stepped into the dark. 

Without hesitation, Nines followed. 

 


End file.
